Frailty of the Mind
by Angel of Insanity1
Summary: "After my secret was out, I decided to abandon my identity, which is why I call myself "No-Name". If I'm meant to be, I will reclaim the essence of who I am. If not, I can die content in the fact that I was nobody to begin with."


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Frailty of the Mind

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Disclaimer: In my own delusional little world, I do own the Yu-Gi-Oh! cast. Unfortunately, my delusional little world is not the reality of everyone else, so I actually don't own such a formidable enterprise.

Warning: Depression, self-mutilation, swearing, blood, ect… C'mon it's in the "Angst" category. Whadda expect? Mary freakin' Poppins?

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6/12/02

I feel so alone. At one time, I could tell if I was being insecure or if it was real, but I've long since lost that ability. The others still treat me like their brother, but I've come to realize they see me as a burden and not a friend.

The world seems like such a cold and cruel place without anyone beside me. I miss the warmth of knowing you loved and were loved in return. I want to be able to smile again and have it mean something.

Most of all, I missing being able to look around me and see the vibrant colors of life, to be able to approach a situation and see only the positive. Now all I see is gray and black…

…And red…

It still stains the bandannas I tied around my arms and legs though it's faded to orange now on some. I still feel the pain of the cuts as if I just made them and I can see and feel the small trickles of blood run down my skin. But despite these minor discomforts, these phantom pains are a comforting reminder that I'm still hanging on… if only by a string.

But what sort of existence is this? I barely make it through the day anymore. Every task and every word feel like another link in my chain of burden.

AND NOBODY KNOWS! Because they're so wrapped up in their delusions that they can't see I need help as I can no longer help myself properly. Sure, they made me promise not to cut myself anymore, but good are promises? Why should I keep my word when everyone else around me breaks theirs?

They pitied me and were nice for a small time. But, once I started acting like myself again, so did they. Yet, I trooped on like a good soldier, bearing their secrets and passing out advice like I was a hotline. I've kept smiling and laughing while on the inside I'm dying.

Nobody can see the pain in my eyes or hear the strain in my laugh. Nooo! That would mean they'd have to depend on themselves and we just can't have that, now can we? 

I keep acting like I'm okay, hoping I can convince myself of the same thing. But, I'll never be "all right" again. I'm too scared, inside and out.

But nobody will care.

-Nanashi

Slow tears rolled down the writer's face as he closed the small, leather bound book. His lackluster eyes shimmered eerily as he brushed his unkempt hair out of his face and lay down. He sighed, not feeling any better after the release of his thoughts.

His hand automatically when under his pillow and closed around a small, beat up box. He withdrew it and slid the small blade out with a certain amount of respect. He looked down at his bare arms uncertainty. _There's so much there already. _He lifted his pant legs and came up against the same problem.

The slight boy sighed and lifted his shirt. There was a small patch of fairly fresh scars on his chest and he figured it would be unwise to reopen old wounds for the time being. He gripped the singlet blade and found a vacant spot on the top of his wrist.

A small hiss of pain escaped from between his teeth and he drug the sharp instrument over his cold flesh long and hard, taking his time. Once he was content with the first line, he made another one over it in the same fashion.

He grinned lifelessly as he watched the deep crimson well up from the "X" shaped cut, a deep satisfaction soothing his raging heart as he felt the small, warm rivers track down in arm lightly. _It begins,_ he thought, his feeling a mix of pain and pleasure. _We'll see where it goes from here._

For him, the gamble for life and death had just begun.

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6/14/02

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On the calendar, the two days I have not written are nothing but a blink of an eye. But those two days have felt like an endless, tormenting Hell for me. The funny thing is though, nothing much happened really. 

I believe that's what's bothering me. When it gets to a state of almost normal, I have too much time to think.

Over the past days, I have accumulated three news cuts, all on the top of my right hand; all in no real specific order. The quiet was driving me mad… more specifically, my thoughts were and I **NEEDED** a distraction.

I should really watch what I'm doing from now on. When I made that "x" on my arm, it means the beginning of the end. In all my pain and suffering, none of my cuts have been that deep or near any major veins. That simple mark is a sign that I'm done.

Funny enough, such a weighty mark only bears heavy in some small part of my mind. The next few hours will tell me if I can reclaim my life or if I'm not meant to be anymore. A small part, the one that holds the weight of my actions, of me is anxious to see what will happen.

After my secret was out, I decided to abandon my identity, which is why I call myself "No-Name". If I'm meant to be, I will reclaim the essence of who I am.

If not, I can die content in the fact that I was nobody to begin with.

-Nanashi

Again, the writer was in tears as he closed the small book. He got up and went to his closet to retrieve the butcher knife he saved for this very moment. He studied his deathly appearance with disgust and he quickly took off his shirt and slipped into a pair of shorts.

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This is their final test. Do they care… or not? He took a deep breath and walked to the top of the stairs. Sounds of laughter floated up to greet him and a cascade of tears continued to fall down his pale, stricken face. _No turning back._

He slowly made his way down the stairs into the kitchen, where his "friends" were sitting around, joking as usual. "Guys…" he said, his voice raspy from days of not being used.

Slowly, the four friends turned and one by one, their mouths dropped open and their eyed widened as they took in his barely dressed form. Their shocked gazes traced and traveled over every one of his scars.

"Wha… How… Why?" the blond stuttered.

His smile was dead and his eyes carried the true brunt of his pain. Tears still fell from those cicatrix eyes. "Is that all you can say in the face of a problem? Why? Why not?"

"I thought you promised-" the only female present started.

"Promises and "I love you" are such fleeting words. They're like lies wrapped in fuzzy pretenses… No, they're like filthy swears, staining people with a delusional poison." He brushed his hair out of face. 

"But-"

He cut the stern looking brunet off. "But nothing." He held his arms out, the butcher knife glinting in the waning light. "Look at me! This is what true suffering looks like. I am a walking dead man." His eyes sparked with momentary rage. "This is what death after life looks like!" His slight frame started shaking as he gripped the stiletto tighter. His lusterless eyes would have been completely dead if not for the sheen of tears. "You all obviously don't care." He laughed darkly. "And I thought I could reclaim my life." He managed to give them all a withering glare. "Some of you can't even speak." His gaze turned to the silent one in the back. "And now, this is what death looks like when it dies." He raised the blade to his throat with a half-hearted sneer. _And this is how it all ends._

"NO!" The silent one suddenly launched from his chair at him, bringing them both down hard. The young man wrestled with him valiantly, closing his fingers around the sharp blade tightly. "Don't do this!"

"Why not? You've all never noticed before. Why should you care now? Guilt? A second ago, you wouldn't even talk." He tried to yank the blade away.

The young man cried out as the sharp edge cut his fingers deep, but he refused to let go. Tears were streaming from his eyes hard. "I'm sorry I didn't feel it earlier!" He cried out again as the blade cut even deeper. "I''ve just never felt sorrow so deep or pain so great in all my life. I didn't know what it was!"

"LIAR!" he roared, feeling the first fluttering of rage as he yanked the blade hard. All of the sudden, he felt something warm dripping on his face and chest. _Huh? _

"I'm so sorry! I never wanted you to hurt yourself! I realized what was wrong when you came in here. It was so crystal clear to me. Your suffering… it was like a bullet hit me! I… It shocked me."

He looked up to the source of the warm substance and something snapped in his mind. His blade was embedded deep in the young man's fingers, which were bleeding profusely. _He… he's stopping me…_ He suddenly let go of the knife. _He's hurting himself to stop me. Someone cares._

The young man carelessly ripped the cold steel from his hands and pulled his sobbing dark side close. "Shhh… I'm so sorry Yami." Yugi started rocking back and forth. "Let it all out. I'm here for you."

Yami froze, his crimson eyes wide with far too many emotions. "You're what?"

"I'm here for you. Just like you are for me." Yugi smoothed Yami's hair down. Soon Téa, Tristan and Joey joined the pair, embracing each other tightly.

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It's over. It's all over.

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7/2/02

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I was wrong. So incredibly wrong. They all cared about me and were worried the whole time. They saw everything but didn't know how to approach me.

After we all calmed down, they explained how they didn't want to pressure me into giving answers like they did the first time. They were actually trying to act normal to help me! It was all in my head. The loneliness, the cold, the dread…

It was all because of me.

And now I can smile again and fell truly loved. Looking back on it, I could always sense comfort from my little Hikari. I was just too lost to really feel it. They were all there for me, especially when I needed them the most.

Through this, I learned that life is a precious thing and it's not to be taken lightly. I know that I will never quite be the same but we all change day to day anyway.

And no matter what, I know I'm ready to face the challenges of life. But I'll never be alone. I'll always have my friends.

And that alone is something worth living for.

-Yami Moto

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Fin

A/N: Ta da? Now that you've read, review. Flame my ass from here to Kingdom Come, but I'll just laugh at your lack of maturity and constructiveness-ness! And, the use of Yugi's last name is symbolic to Yami's closeness with his Hikari. So nah!

-Angel of Insanity


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